


Thank God For Clint Barton

by Goira



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Broken Characters, Car crash Clint Barton, Deaf Clint Barton, Disabled Character, Fluff, Healing Bucky, M/M, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, alternative universe, sam and steve are good pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goira/pseuds/Goira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘ok don’t kill me but I kinda broke the heels you gave me. I'm soo sooo sorry. Don’t kill me.’</p><p>This wasn’t Steve. For one it was an unknown number, for two, well he didn’t know Steve to wear heels, or to break them for that matter. And just as he was to say so to the stranger, his phone buzzed with another message.</p><p>‘but I have a good excuse, I tripped in’em and fell off the building, I'm in the hospital right now’<br/>--</p><p>Or the fic where Clint send a message to the wrong number. And he and Bucky start pining over each other pitifully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank God For Clint Barton

**Author's Note:**

> remember, throwing tomatoes at me is just wasting good food. don't waste it good food.  
> How about you all curse my writing in comments instead :3.
> 
> The fic alternate between Steve and Bucky's POV.  
> enjoy !!! o/
> 
> This fic is now Beta-ed and eddited by the wonderful [Tanouska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanouska/pseuds/Tanouska) , this fic was a disaster before she stepped in, so thank you very much for your hard work !!!

 

Bucky couldn’t do this anymore. He was tired, exhausted. He hadn’t had bad days like this in months.

He was doing well lately. Steve had helped since he came back from his tour, where he had left a part of himself. He came back with a prosthetic arm, a bundle of scars, and a hole in his chest eating him from the inside out.

When he came back, he didn’t talk for days, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, and it was driving poor Steve up the wall, seeing his best friend in such a state and being so powerless to help him out. It took Bucky a long time before he became more aware of his surroundings, even more time to actually get up from the bed in the mornings, and a bit more to open up a little to Steve, talking to him. It helped him. He could feel part of himself coming back to him, he could sometimes feel like he was his old self; Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but just a look at his left arm and he would remember that he would never be what he used to be. He could never be sergeant again; he would never be Bucky, Steve’s best friend again.

 

But Steve, the stubborn little shit that he is, still tried. He didn’t want his best friend back; all he wanted was his well-being; so he helped him get better; took him to the VA, introducing him to Sam, driving him to the rehabilitation center, and all the other little things he would do for Bucky on a daily basis. And Bucky was feeling better, he could laugh now, he could remove his prosthetic a little more often, he wasn’t feeling as pitiful as he had been before. 

But there was always that gap in his chest that made itself known now and then. The ache that reminded him of all the things he didn’t have anymore; it was the gap his arm left when he lost it on the battlefield, it was the gap his old self left, it was the purpose of his life that he had lost. But it was also something else, something he couldn’t exactly pinpoint, something that spoke of utter loneliness.

And today the world decided that he had had enough peace time, and it needed to give him shit.

His day technically started at 3 AM, when his own thrashing and twisting, caused by his violent nightmare, woke him up. After that he couldn’t sleep again, by fear of his own unconsciousness. So Bucky got up from his bed, put on a red hoodie, dark jeans, and his heavy boots, and got out of the apartment.

He didn’t want to wake Steve up; he deserved some rest after all he’d done for him. Plus, Sam was over tonight, and he didn’t want to disturb their rare night together.

So he got out and started walking aimlessly in the deserted streets, tried to get rid of the remainders of his nightmares. Bucky had just decided to find some place still open that served some coffee, when he heard it. A muffled sob.  The noise seemed to come from the dark alley he had just passed, so he came back a few steps to check what was going to on.

The sight that greeted him made the blood rush to his head, he could feel the anger bubbling in his chest; a young woman was pressed against the wall, crowded by three rough looking men. The woman’s clothes were clearly those of a nurse, and were ripped at the front, one of the men held her down while the two others leered over her. Their intents were clear, and before he could think, Bucky’s body acted on its own.

The movements felt automatic, natural, he just had to let his mind go blank, and his body would just dodge hits, punch, kick, and break teeth and noses. All the three men were down before they even processed what was happening, and Bucky’s breath wasn’t even labored.

He turned to see if the woman was injured and to possibly help her get home safely.

“Are you okay?” Bucky said, while reaching out to help the woman up on her feet.

She looked grateful, muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ with her voice shaking; but as she reached to grab his hand to get up, she froze in place, and the look of horror came back to her face.

It was then that Bucky realized that he had reached to her with his injured hand, mutilated hand, replaced by the prosthetic. He forgot to wear a glove when he went out, didn’t deem it necessary since it was dark and late in the night; nobody would see it.

And now he had just scared the poor woman even more; she didn’t know what to do, so she just got up from the ground, grabbed her belongings off the floor, and rushed out of the alley.

‘She was right,’ thought Bucky, ‘who could trust such a scarred incomplete man in the middle of the night just because he punched some thugs. So he swallowed his hurt and continued his aimless journey. His upper arm, the flesh and bone which was left of his arm, started to itch and by the time he got home his arm hurt badly.

He had acted stupidly in that alley, blocking hits, and swinging his arm to land punches with his prosthetic. His arm couldn’t take that sort pressure anymore, and there he goes knocking three men with it. Fucking hell, could this day be any worse?

And apparently the universe though that, yes, yes it could get worst because fuck you Bucky. Because Steve had to wake up just a few hours after Bucky got home, exchanging small sweet kisses with Sam, and looking like they had had the best night of their lives. They even started making plans for the three of them for the day.

And Bucky really liked a happy Steve, even if it was more often around Sam than around him these days. But Sam was a great guy, and they both deserved happiness and some quiet time. So Bucky had to wear the biggest smile during the whole breakfast, and to pretend that his arm didn’t hurt so much that he was on the verge of crying.

He refused Steve’s constant invitations to join them and silently prayed they would get out of the house sooner so he could cry peacefully in a corner. As soon as the couple got out of the house, he went back to his room, removed the prosthetic and threw himself on the bed, burying himself in the pillows.

He was just about to continue on his plan to sob when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He thought about ignoring it, but it could be Steve checking in on him, and he didn’t want him rushing back like the mother hen he was if Bucky didn’t respond. Man, he missed the times when HE was the mother hen in this relationship.

So he fished his phone from his back pocket and opened the message.

 

‘ _ok don’t kill me but I kinda broke th heels u gave me m soo sooo sorry. Don’t kill me.’_

This wasn’t Steve. For one, it was an unknown number, for two, well, he didn’t know Steve to wear heels, or to break them for that matter. Just as he was about to say so to the stranger, his phone buzzed with another message.

 

_‘But I hav a good excuse, I tripped in’em and fell off the building, m in the hospital right now’_

 

 

Bucky was speechless, the person on the other line was clearly a tragedy, and his mother hen senses were tingling; so he began typing furiously before he could even think about it.

 

‘ _How the fuck can you even trip from buildings?’_

_‘it was n accident I was running in ur heels n I tripped. I tell u Tasha men feet arent meant for heels’_

_‘then why the fuck were you wearing heels AND running’_

_‘um don’t kill me ‘k , it was a bet? Friking tony bet me to run in heels. M sorry I lied bout why I needed the heels’_

 

What the hell was wrong with this guy? Running in heels and falling from buildings to land in the hospital, all for a bet? Bucky couldn’t help it. He busted out laughing, he laughed for long minutes, he laughed loud and until tears blurred his vision. He hadn’t laughed like that since the loss of his arm, the pain caused by it forgotten for a while.

Once his laughter reduced to quiet chuckles, he decided to take pity on the guy and tell him he had the wrong number, and this wasn’t his Tasha.

 

‘ _sorry ol sport, but this isn’t Tasha; wrong number, thanks for the laugh though_ ’ Bucky wrote, and hid his phone again, expecting a sorry from the stranger, and that would be the end of it. At least he had gotten a good laugh out of it. He felt the expected buzz of a received message, and then unexpectedly a second one, and a third.

 

Curious, Bucky fished out his phone again and read the messages he received.

‘ _OMG m sooo sorry broke my phone during my fall this is a new one’_

_‘wait, wait, you knew it was a wrong number, but u still laughed at my ass’_

_‘cruel’_

 

And as he was still holding his phone another message came;

 

_‘and who the fuck still sais ol sport. U a grandpa?’_

Okay, now Bucky was irritated. He didn’t want a guy who fell from buildings while wearing heels criticizing his choice of words, and he said as much to him;

 

_‘I don’t want a guy who fell from a fucking building because he was wearing HEELS to point out anything I say or do. How do people even fall from buildings, aren’t there windows or some shit’_

_‘What?????’_ The message radiated with indignation. _‘I fucking crashed through the window u asshole, and I wasn’t just running in heels I was running and shooting arrows WHILE wearing heels. Just crashed through the window is all’_

 

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was reading; he was torn between tearing out his hair, and falling to the floor laughing. What even was this guy.

 

_‘Why the hell would you do that? How do you do that? Were you raised in the circus or something?’_

 

The answer came instantly ‘ _well yeah’_

_‘How is that? Were you really raised in a circus? For real?’_

_‘I said yeah grandpa, I was a trapeze, and I had a show where I fired arrows at a target. I never miss. Hawkeye was my circus name'_

 

Bucky couldn’t hold it anymore; he fell to the mattress and laughed so hysterically that his sides hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had just forgotten about everything, and had just let himself go. Just as he was wiping his tears, his phoned buzzed another time.

_‘You’re laughing aren’t u. ur a dick dude, a diiiick’_

_‘Yeah, I’m sorry about that. It's not every day that I talk to an ex-circus carnie, who falls off from buildings. So how hurt are you exactly?’_

 

This guy just made him laugh for the first time in months; he didn’t feel uncomfortable talking to him, so he didn’t see the harm in continuing the conversation for a little while longer.

 

_‘Strained ankle and mild concussion m in the hospital the doc want to keep me here for a night’_

_‘And my phone broke so this s a new phone n the only number I know is Tash wish is wrong apparently’_

 

Bucky chuckled. This guy was a car crash. Somebody needed to save this guy from himself.

 

‘ _Wow. And I thought my day was bad. And for god’s sake write properly’_

 

The texts came almost immediately.

 

_‘u rally r an old man jst how old r u? Also wat happened to u?’_

_‘I’m not old, I’m 31. I’d just like to understand what the fuck you’re talking about’_

_‘let’s go back to your day, why did it suck?’_

 

Bucky smiled ‘ _ho now you’re typing normally. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to know’_

 

The next message took a few minutes before arriving.

 

_‘I do want to know. I don’t care how horrible it is, I can handle it. Trust me, it’ll feel good to rant about it. I’m all ears. Or all eyes, or whatever organs this needs’_

 

He was reticent to answer the second question, he didn’t want to spill his guts to a complete stranger, to make himself vulnerable to a person he didn’t know. He didn’t even open up to Steve completely. But at the same time, getting his feelings out in the open, and the opportunity to vent out to somebody who didn’t know him, who couldn’t exactly judge him, and even if he did, he would have the block option on his phone to deal with that. The knowledge that he could stop the conversation at any given moment, that he didn’t owe the person on the other end of the line anything, and that he wouldn’t feel guilt at seeing the hurt in the other person’s eyes when he shut himself down, that knowledge freed him.

So without giving it further  thought, he told him.

 

_‘Had a nightmare, so I went out in the middle of the night and caught some punks trying to hurt a gal, beat the shit out of them. But as soon as she saw my arm, she flipped the shit out again. And as soon as I got home my arm started hurting like a bitch. ’_

_‘My arm is’_ Bucky hesitated for a bit _‘It was severely damaged in my last tour, and now I have to live with a prosthetic arm’_

 

The guy on the other line didn’t send any message anymore, Bucky guessed that he was reading his messages, or that he just ignored him when shit got too serious.

After a few minutes of total silence from his phone after Bucky sent his last message, he gave up, and  guessed that the guy had just given up on their conversation when it got too intense and involved more chopped limbs than normal. But just as he was about to turn off his phone, and to swallow his disappointment, another text came;

 

_‘Can I call you?’_

 

Okay, that wasn’t the typical reaction he got when people knew about his missing limb. But then again, normal people didn’t fall off buildings wearing heels for a bet.

 

_‘Sure why not’_

 

The phone rang in his hand, and Bucky hesitated just for few seconds before picking up.

 

“Um, hello.”

 

Well, this was awkward.

 

“Who the fuck says gal anymore, are you sure you’re not an old man?”

 

The man had a deep rich voice that sent a shiver through Bucky’s body.

 

“Fuck you, circus boy.”

 

“Tsk tsk, you didn’t even take me out on a date yet.” The voice on the other line went high pitched, trying to do an impression of some sort.

 

Bucky chuckled. “So, I see you aren’t put off at the mention of cut off limbs.”

 

“I’ve seen my share of those. The charm kind of faded.”

 

When Bucky said nothing, the man explained further.

 

“I was a sniper in a special unit a few years back. Also, didn’t come out of it intact. I lost 80% of my hearing in an explosion.”

 

Bucky was quiet for a bit. His vision of the other man changed, he was not a stranger who happened to be nice enough to hear Bucky pour out his bad day; he was someone who could understand, someone who understood the pain of having a part of yourself taken away from you. The feeling of being incomplete, the pain brought by the pity in people’s eyes when they knew and the pain in the eyes of friends and loved ones when they knew there was nothing they could do to help.

 Bucky swallowed the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him and answered calmly.

 

“Heh, so we can be the sniper disabled bros.”

 

“Hey, that’s a cool title! But more seriously, about that pain in your arm. I don’t want to make you feel trapped, or act like your fucking therapist or anything, but, what do you do about it when begins hurting too much?”

 

Bucky could feel the usual protest that rises in him whenever someone mentioned doing something about  his arm flare up, but before he could say anything, the other man started talking again.

 

“I don’t know if you used any cream before, and if you did, they were probably those creams that make your arm go all numb. But stark industries made this cream that soothes the pain without the numbing feeling. A friend of mine has severe skin problems, and trust me, that shit does its job.”

 

“Um, I don’t know about it, I don’t like applying anything to it.”

 

“Do as you like buddy, I’m not forcing you into anything, it was just a suggestion. Applying a cream is better than walking it off in ass-in-the-morning.”

 

“OK, I’ll consider it; maybe it can do some good.”

 

“Clint.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“That’s my name, I’m Clint.”

 

“Nice to meet you Clint, you can call me James.”

 

There was a little pause between them, but strangely it wasn’t awkward. Bucky had the feeling that this Clint was the kind of person with whom you could sit for hours and never feel pressured to talk . He liked that thought.

 

“Tell me, James, what are you planning to do for the rest of this beautiful day?”

 

Bucky snorted “Yeah, a real beautiful day it is.” He pondered for a while. “And I don’t know, maybe I’ll just lay in bed for the rest of the day. I really don’t want to face this day.”

As he said this he was ready for the reprimands. He was so used to his friends’ attempts to get him out of his room and bed on days like this, that he automatically expected to hear the ‘you need to get out of bed and get out’ spiel.

 

“Days spent in bed are the best. Bed and coffee can cure all bad days.”

 

He was a little taken aback by Clint’s reaction. “Amen to that. But now that you remind me, I still haven’t had my coffee.”

 

“Aw man, you should get your coffee first. And man, never get injured, hospital  coffee is the worst, I swear.”

 

“Legit reason.”

 

There was a long silence on the other line before Clint spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. “You’re not a man of many words are you.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, and he didn’t seem upset about it. “No, I’m not. Sorry.”

 

“Hey no, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I talk enough for two people and more. So about that coffee of yours, are you taking it?”

 

That prompted Bucky to get up from his bed without a word , his need for caffeine stronger than his need to bury himself in his bed, and to go to the kitchen to make coffee as well as something to eat. All the while his phone was pressed between his shoulder and his head. The two of them said nothing, just listened to each other’s slow breathing through the phone while Bucky quietly did what he had to do, until his coffee  was ready  and he was sitting on the couch, placing cup on the coffee table.

 

“So,” Clint began.

 

\--

 

The conversation went on for another two hours, they talked about nothing and everything, talked about movies, talked about friends, about jobs, Bucky made fun of Clint because he literally owns an archery range and he teaches in it. But the conversation was always light, nothing too serious, nothing too full hearted. There were also long moments of silence where no one spoke a word, and even if it was a little weird doing that on the phone, it was oddly comforting.

 

“Okay man, this was awesome but-” Clint yawned loudly over the phone. “I have to sleep man, I’m tired as fuck.”

 

Bucky first felt a little disappointed that the conversation was over, but then an irrational fear sprang in him at the thought of Clint hanging up. What if this was a one-time thing, what if he never talked to him again.

 

“Um, yeah sure.” The tightness in his chest increased, and this was totally ridiculous, he didn’t even know this man. “You gotta rest after falling from buildings and all.”

 

“Look, James, I know it’s hard right now. You will wake up screaming with explosions just behind your eyelids, you will recall every horrid moment of the battlefield so vividly you’ll think you’re back there again. All that horror and you won’t even be able to talk to someone about it because what can it do. You might not be okay now, nor in a month. But you will be okay, eventually. Trust me; I have experience in these things. Even now I’m still not completely okay, but I can get by.”

Bucky usually didn’t like people pointing out his nightmares, and his PTSD. But somehow this was okay, to be told this by someone who had the same experiences was different, more acceptable. He could actually hear the word of the other person instead of immediately shutting them out  at the mention of his problems. It’s true that Steve and Sam were in the battlefield, saw death and destruction around them, but they didn’t know the feeling of being unmade, of losing a part of yourself, and just becoming a grossly made copy of yourself.

 

“I know,” he responded, with a voice rough with all the emotions swirling in his chest. “Thank you Clint.”

 

“No problemo James-” another yawn broke his sentence before he continued, “-so yeah I’m off, take care.”

 

 Without another warning, the line went dead, and Bucky was suddenly taken by panic. He was too slow and too much of a coward to actually ask the guy if he could talk to him again sometime, but in the middle of his freak out session, his phone rang again.

 

The speed with how he picked up his phone was embarrassing.

 

“Yes?” His voice was way too hopeful.

 

“Hey, I just forgot to ask you a thing, um this is extremely awkward, but can I call you again. I-I kind of liked talking to you?”

 

Relief flooded Bucky, and he was suddenly enveloped in warm feelings. Jesus, what was this man doing to him.

 

“Was that a question or a statement?”

 

“Aw shit. Sorry. I like talking to you. So, um, can I?”

 

Bucky bit his lips; a grin was threatening to split his face into two. “Yeah you can call me. Anytime you want, it’s not like I have much to do.”

 

“Great !” He sounded excited; at least Bucky wasn’t the only one being ridiculous about this thing. “So yeah, this time I’m off. Bye.”

 

“Bye, have a good rest.”

 

Bucky cut off the line and leaned back  into the couch; this was the most relaxed he had been in a while, and all it took was a conversation with a total stranger, who by some coincidence happened to know and understand all the pain he was in. He was also excited for the days to come, he was looking forward to the ridiculous conversations he could have with Clint.

 

Thank god for idiots who composed wrong numbers.

 

~~~~

 

Steve was just opening the door to the apartment he shared with Bucky when laughter stopped him at the doorstep. He didn’t recognize the sound at first, but suddenly it hit him that it was Bucky’s laughter. God, he hadn’t heard that sound in so long that he didn’t recognize it anymore.

 

These past three weeks Bucky had been behaving a little odd. He took his phone everywhere around the house, texted constantly, even mastered texting with just one arm. Steve also noticed the small smiles and the giggles that escaped him while he was on the phone. Steve was happy for him, really. All he wanted was for his best friend to be happy again, but the problem was that he didn’t know who Bucky was talking to; when Bucky had come back, he had shut himself down from all his other friends, the only people he talked to and tolerated were him and Sam, and that’s was it.  Steve doubted that all that happiness came from an old friend that he suddenly deemed worthy talking to.

 

But he still didn’t want to pry on his friend. As long as he was happy again, that’s all that counted. So he braced himself and walked into the living room.  He stopped right in his tracks; Bucky was watching TV, cartoon network to be exact. Bucky was watching cartoons. But that wasn’t what shocked Steve, what did was his arm. His friend was wearing a black tank top that left what was left of his arm for all to see, littered with scars, and most importantly, it was shiny. Bucky had without a doubt applied some sort of cream to  it. For months, Steve had tried to make Bucky apply some ointment, or something to calm the pain, but Bucky refused every time, not even force could make him do anything about the pain in his arm. It seemed like he was punishing himself for some imaginary sins by bearing the pain.

 

To see him this carefree, watching cartoons of all things, and applying a cream on his arm pushed Steve to finally ask  what the fuck was going on.  But he still had to be careful about it; he didn’t want Bucky to shut himself down on him. So with all the grace a 6’2 person can muster he slumped himself onto the couch next to his friend.

 

“Hey, Buck. What are you watching?”

 

Bucky turned to look at him like he just noticed that Steve was in the room. His eyes were shiny with tears, and by the laughter that had welcomed Steve home, he guessed that those were happy tears at least. And that, that threw Steve even more. Sure, his friend was doing good these days,  life coming back to his eyes, the empty unfocused eyes and dazed expressions of when he just came back faded. But he still didn’t expect Bucky to explode with laughter over a fucking cartoon, like it was a normal occurrence.

 

Bucky just shrugged and focused on the TV once more. “It’s called Gumball, and it’s hilarious. I didn’t know cartoons were this crazy.”

 

The blue character on TV said something, and Bucky exploded with laughter once more, and Steve couldn’t give two shits about how crazy or funny this cartoon was, he needed to know what the fuck was going on. He didn’t want to rush Bucky into telling him who he was constantly texting, and whispering to on the phone late at night, but it began to freak him out a little.

 

So, calmly, as to not to pressure his friend, he asked, “So Buck. Anything you want to tell me?”

 

He could feel Bucky’s body go rigid beside him; he clearly wasn’t ready to talk about this, so Steve had to act fast before he bolted.

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I-I’m just worried about you Buck. You’ve been talking to a person I clearly don’t know for almost three weeks, and whoever they are, they are clearly making you happy.”

 

Bucky clearly blushed, the tip of his ear gone red, and he muttered a quiet, “It’s not what you think.”

 

Steve stayed quiet, if Bucky wanted to explain further, he would do it. Pressuring him would only make him flee.

 

“I don’t know him,” Bucky explained and quickly started talking when he saw Steve’s confused face. “ I mean, I don’t know him in person. He called the wrong number a few weeks back, and we just started talking.” He looked shyly at Steve through his eyelashes. “He’s funny.”

 

Steve just looked at him, he didn’t know which  expression was on his face right now, but maybe it wasn’t  so bad, because Bucky just smiled and started explaining again.

 

“And he is such a car crash, I swear,” he said, his expression that of exasperated fondness. “He is just like you when you were still a skinny punk Stevie! The other day a girl shot an arrow in  his thighs.”

 

“A what? Why?!”

 

It’s true that Steve was a little punk who used to get into all sorts of trouble, still does, but he never got an arrow, of all things, in his thighs. He wanted to ask more questions about this stranger, but finally decided against it. He just looked at Bucky’s shiny arm and raised his head to look him in the eyes, his expression questioning.

 

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “the first time we talked, he recommended this cream for me. I decided to try it, so I bought it yesterday and it’s good! My arm doesn’t hurt that much today, and the itching stopped. He also suggested the cartoon.”

 

He looked back at his arm, and his lips twitched in a little smile. Steve was about to ask about the stranger’s name, when Bucky’s phone rang, interrupting him.

Bucky looked at his phone, and his expression looked torn. He rose from the couch and was clearly intending to go to his room, when he finally decided against it and sat down again, this time a bit closer to Steve, their shoulders brushing, and opened the line.

 

“Hello Legolas, how was your day?”

 

He paused a little, apparently listening to the man on the other line, then continued.

 

“Whaaaaat! No car crashes or fighting against mobsters for a dog? Clint, I’m disappointed!”

 

Despite their proximity, Steve couldn’t hear the other man, apparently he was talking in hushed tones. If he did it intentionally, then this man knew that he shouldn’t talk too loudly as to not to startle Bucky. That,  the cream he recommended for Bucky, and the fact that his friend actually used it, were reasons for Steve to decide that this Clint was a good person and clearly good for Bucky, so he clapped Bucky’s shoulder, and got up from the couch, giving him his privacy.

Happy Bucky meant Happy Steve, and the rest really didn’t matter. When Bucky was more comfortable, he would come to Steve and tell him everything, but only when he was ready.

So Steve raised his head, looked to the ceiling, and thanked god for random guys who recommended cartoons and soothing creams.

 

~~~~~

 

_He was sitting in a chair, his hands and feet were tied, even his head was strapped to the chair, he could not move. Even tugging at his restraints was unfruitful. He tried to call for help, but his throat just clicked and no sound came out of his mouth. He had no choice but to look at the scene in front of him._

_He looked at himself, in the middle of a vast field. He was dressed in his uniform and his gun was pointed to the head of a young man kneeling in front of him. The man was crying, asking for mercy, but with horror Bucky watched himself pull the trigger without even a second of hesitation, his eyes hollow and empty of any form of pity or life. After just a minute, other men came running to the field just behind himself. He tried to shout, tried to warn him, but again no sound came out._

_The men reached him, violently shoved him into the ground, all keeping him from standing up. The biggest one of them approached him with a wicked grin, came closer, stomped on his shoulder, twisted his arm, and began pulling it. Bucky watched helplessly as the man was pulling his arm out of its joint, trying to break it, trying to split it from the rest of his body. He heard himself scream and howl in pain, heard the laughter of the men all around the room. All he could do was try to scream too, he twisted again, trying to get himself free, and then the man carrying his limb looked at him and grinned._

 

He woke up, caused by his own twisting and thrashing . He never screamed while dreaming, it always quiets gasps and violent twisting.

He knew he was awake now, but his heart was still beating fast, his lungs felt like they were on fire, and no matter how much air he gulped in, it  never seemed to be enough. Panic seized his senses. The room seemed to get smaller and smaller,  his heart was beating faster, and he felt like he was drowning, the air was not enough. And the shadows. The shadows of the room seemed to be crawling to him. They were going to get him; they were going to take his arm again.

He looked down at his arm and stared at where his hand should have been. His arm twisted as if to move his lost fingers and Bucky wanted to scream, he wanted to howl, he wanted to crawl the walls, but no sound came out, his throat clicked again.

He looked around him for a place to crawl in, when he saw his phone on the night table. He reached for it and clutched it like a lifeguard, then  composed the number he knew by heart by now.

 

After a few rings, Clint’s sleepy voice muttered a quiet ‘ello’.

 

And Bucky still couldn’t mutter a word, and just breathed loudly over the phone.

 

“James?” Clint sounded more awake now; his voice a little panicked “James are you okay?”

 

And a low pitiful whimper escaped Bucky’s mouth.

 

“James, listen to me. It was just a nightmare, you’re awake now.” Clint’s voice was low but firm, trying to bring Bucky back to reality. “I’m here now James, listen to my voice. Come back to me James.”

 

“Clint!” His voice was strangled, he still felt like he was drowning.

 

“Yes, James, I’m here, just listen to me talking. You are at your apartment with Steve, your best friend, you are back in New York, and the battlefield is behind you. There’s no one with you in that room, there’s just you and me. You’re safe James.”

 

“Yes,” gasped Bucky. He was still fighting  for air, but the room didn’t feel like it was crawling in on him anymore, he didn’t feel like the shadows of the room were after him, so  he just listened to Clint muttering soft soothing words to him, until he came down from his panic attack. When he began to regain his senses, he was overcome by guilt. He had just woken up Clint at ass in the morning and almost gave him a heart attack just because he had had a nightmare.

 

“Clint,” he began, “thank you for this. But you really should get back to bed right now.”

 

Clint just hummed and muttered a quiet ‘not yet’.

 

“You really shouldn’t talk to me Clint.” His voice was breaking again “Clint, I-I’m broken, torn, and I’m just dragging you with me. You really don’t deserve this.”  But even as he was saying this Bucky was clutching his phone like a lifeline. God, he was so selfish.

 

“James, I’m a grown ass man, and I think I get to decide whether I deserve something or not. And you’re not the only broken one in this relationship, okay? So stop trying to make me run away. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

And Bucky just snapped. He was nothing like Clint. He was a monster, all the horror and the pain he had caused . He deserved all the pain and nightmares in the world for all he had done.

 

“I’m a monster, Clint, you have no idea what I’ve done there. You have no idea about the monstrosity that I am. You should just hang up on me right now you-”

 

He was suddenly interrupted by a shout from Clint. “James!!” This was the first time ever  that the archer rose his voice at him “You are not a monster. You were in a war, and you did what you had to do to survive. And don’t you dare think that what happened to your arm was some kind of punishment. It was not. It was an unfortunate accident. That’s it!” A little pause and Clint continued with a lower voice. “Look James. What happened back there or what you did, does not define you. Your injury doesn’t define you either. James, you are the man you make yourself into, and from what I’ve seen so far, from what I heard, you are one hell of a good man James. Don’t you ever forget that.  Are we clear on this point?”

Tears fell on Bucky’s cheeks. He hadn’t known that he needed someone to say this out loud, all these days and months he’s been tearing himself apart about this. And hearing someone saying this, that he could be forgiven, that he, maybe, wasn’t the monster he thought he was, was such a relief that his body began shaking, tears flowing and falling onto the mattress.

He still didn’t fully believe that he wasn’t a total monster, that’s he didn’t deserve what had happened to him. But Clint’s words flared hope in him, that maybe, just maybe, one day he’d be able to forgive himself for what he had done, and he was grateful to Clint for that.

 

“Sir, yes sir.”

 

God bless Clint Barton.

 

\--

 

One day Steve walked in on Bucky holding a book that teaches sign language. He just shrugged it off as he did with all of his strange behaviors lately and went to his room.

 

\--

 

Steve woke up to the smell of pancakes and coffee. He got up, took his shower, and entered the kitchen. Bucky was sitting on a stool, drinking from his mug while holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder.

As he saw Steve he put his phone down and muttered a ‘Good morning,’ to Steve. They ate their pancakes in silence until Bucky took his phone and dialed a number. After a few rings he put down his phone again.

 

“Clint is not picking up?” asked Steve.

 

“The idiot is probably is still asleep, or he forgot to put his hearing aids in. Again.”

 

Steve just raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know much about Clint. Bucky only told him a few things; like that he was a 29-year-old, used to be in a special unit a few years back, owned an archery range where he taught people how to shoot with a bow, and his nicknames varied from Legolas to Katniss to- basically every character that used a bow and an arrow, because Bucky thought he was funny like that. 

He wasn’t.

 

Bucky looked at him, tucked the few strands that had escaped his messy bun behind his ear. Apparently he was ready to talk.

 

“Clint is deaf. He lost most of his hearing when he was still in the special unit. He has to wear hearing aids to get by.” He looked at Steve with a little bit of hesitation in his expression. “He’s a good guy Steve, I know you're perplexed about this whole thing, but he makes me feel better, helped me through a lot of nightmares and panic attacks these past two months. I feel better, he makes me better. Not to mention he makes me laugh my ass off with all the shit he goes through, I swear.”

 

An expression of adoration and fondness took over his face.  Steve felt his chest tighten, he was suddenly overwhelmed. Just a few months ago those eyes were dim, the eyes of a man who lost his soul. And now to see the same eyes shine with emotions and Bucky trying to stop a grin from splitting his face. Steve wanted to meet this Clint; he wanted to hold him and just try to convey how grateful he was for all he’d done.  

 

 Steve swallowed the overwhelming need to cry that took him and looked at his best friend again .

 

“You realize you like him don’t you?”

 

Bucky looked back at Steve so fast that he was sure he heard his neck crack from where he was sitting. Bucky’s face was red.

 

“No, I don’t! Well yes, I do, but only in a platonic way. What the hell Steve!"

 

The thing is, Bucky wasn’t shy, not by a long shot, he was a killer with both the ladies and the men; he would flirt shamelessly, make the other person go all red and wanting. True, he rarely took them home, but he wasn’t shy with anyone, he was confident and knew he looked good. But after his tour it became clear that that self-confidence got shot along with everything else, so Steve wasn’t surprised at his sudden shyness.

What surprised him was how much he seemed to care about Clint. True, he had had a few girlfriends and boyfriends in the past, but he was never like this with them; talking to them with hushed tones on the phone, lights in his eyes, rushing to his phone every time it buzzed, claiming he had to show this show or book or movie to another person because they would enjoy it… this was all new and Steve knew that Bucky would not act on it, or even acknowledge his feelings. He needed to be pushed a little.

 

“Yes. Yes, you do Buck. And it's not even a crush, you are in over your head Buddy.” Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but Steve beat him to it. “Don’t even argue with me over this, I know you. And you also know this, so stop lying to yourself and do something about it.”

 

Bucky was about to protest again, but Steve just continued talking.

 

“And don’t give me the ‘no he doesn’t like me like that Stevie’. The guy calls you every day, when you call him he drops everything to talk to you, you just told me that he helped you through nightmares and panic attacks. He wakes up at ass in the night just to make you feel better, he actually sees all the crappy shows and reads the books you recommend him, and calls you to bitch about them but still watches everything you recommend. Buck, he likes you too, and no, don’t give the bitch face, you know I’m right."

 

Bucky looked miserable all of a sudden, looking down at his cup, and biting his lips.

 

“What if he freaks out when he sees me.” His voice sounded so small, and Steve wanted to hug him so badly, but brusque movement was only going to startle him, so instead he put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and slowly advanced to him while curling his hand on his neck. Steve tipped Bucky’s head to make him look him in the eyes.

 

“I don’t know much about Clint, but from what I heard from you, I don’t think he would do that, he doesn’t seem to be that much of an asshole. Okay?”

 

Bucky smiled weakly and took the last step between them to finally hug Steve, burying his head in the crook of his neck. Steve just held him tightly and hoped that he was right and that Clint wouldn’t wreck his friend.

When he finally let go of him, he clapped Bucky on the shoulder and decided it was about time he knew a little more about Clint.

 

“So Buck, do you know what he looks like?”

 

“Um,” he looked uncomfortable, “no.”

 

“Do you know his full name?”

 

“Yeah.” Bucky looked more and more uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other. “I heard his friend call him Barton one time.”

 

“That’s great!” Steve said cheerfully, “That means you can look him up on social media, I’m sure there would be a picture of him somewhere.”

 

Bucky suddenly snorted, all stiffness going out of his body.

 

“Yeah, right. Clint still has a fucking flip phone, and an answering machine, and a land phone with a fucking wire! The only technology he owns is a laptop and Wi-Fi and that’s only so he can watch Netflix all day, Stevie.”

 

While saying this, a look of pure fondness and exasperation took over his expression. Steve just shook his head and smiled in amusement.

 

“You two fit each other. He’ll get into shit, and you’ll be there to mother hen him.”

 Bucky flipped him off halfheartedly. “Fuck you Stevie." 

While Bucky was so relaxed, it was the best time to ask him the question that had been burning on his mind all this time.

 

“So,” Steve began carefully, “when are two going to finally meet?”

 

Apparently his friend was expecting that question but clearly didn’t want to answer it. He averted his eyes and didn’t look at Steve anymore.

 

“Steve,” Bucky was hesitant, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

 

Steve braced himself and said nothing, leaving Bucky to talk at his own pace.

 

“I-I found a job. I will start next week.”

 

Okay. That wasn’t what Steve was expecting. Bucky was clearly avoiding the ‘meeting Clint’ subject, but that could wait, because what?

He had tried countless times to push Bucky to find a job, just to get him out of the house, and so that he could become more comfortable around people again, but with no success every time. The fact that Clint was able to do so in just two months, was able to make Bucky open up to him, to make him open to himself, to accept things, to want to move forward. It left Steve feeling a little pang of jealousy in his chest, but he quickly shut it down. Bucky was happy again, and that’s all that counted in Steve’s books.

 

Trying to hide his enthusiasm for the news, he tried to be cool about it, leaned against the counter and asked, “Where?”

 

Bucky finally looked at him with wide eyes, as if he was expecting a reprimand or a bad reaction from Steve. He looked so small.

 

“At a Gym,” Bucky said with a small voice.

 

“A what??!” Yeah, Steve's plan of acting cool about it failed. Totally.

 

Bucky looked down to his feet again. “It’s not what you think. It’s not a regular gym. It’s for disabled people, to help them get back into shape. People like me.” He raised his head to look straight into Steve’s eyes  with blue eyes that shone with life. “It's  a good job. I might also be able to help in some way there, experience and all.” He smiled, tipping his head to point at his injured arm.

 

People like him. Disabled people. Bucky hadn’t even wanted to accept that fact after he came back, he had looked at the flesh left on his lost arm with disgust and hatred. He had looked at it like something that had no business being on his body, like some monstrosity that stuck to his arm and didn’t want to let go.

Steve could feel his eyes burn with unshed tears for the second time that day.

When Bucky had come back, he’d been only a shade of what once was a great man. He came back an incomplete man.

 

God, when did he become a whole man again without Steve noticing?

 

So he swallowed the emotions threatening to overwhelm him and asked, just for the sake of avoiding the shed of tears, “Did Clint convince you to do it?”

 

Bucky halfheartedly shoved him, a wide grin forming on his lips. “Not everything I do is caused by Clint, you punk!”

Just as he was about to return the little shove and say something witty, Bucky’s phone began ringing.

 

“Speaking of the Devil, look who just woke up.” He opened the line. “Morning”

 

And even from where Steve was standing he could hear the loud groan on the other line. Both he and Bucky chuckled.

 

‘Clint ‘car crash’ Barton’ Steve thought.

 

God protect Clint Barton because the guy  clearly barely held himself together.

 

~~~~

 

 

 

The first thing he heard after Clint picked up the line was a deep, rough grunt. First he panicked, because this was Clint, and him grunting could only mean that he got himself in impossible trouble again.

 

“Clint? Are you okay?” He sounded panicked even to his own ears.

 

“Hey James.” He grunted again. “Yeah ‘m okay, just doing some push-ups.”

 

Bucky sighed in relief; at least he didn’t need to worry about his favorite disaster today.

Another grunt came, and this time knowing what it is, all his blood rushed south.

He tried to keep his voice even while talking to him. Clint didn’t need to know that Bucky’s libido was finally making a comeback, at the worst moment ever.

 

“So what are you up to?” asked Clint, his breath a little labored, which wasn’t helping at all.

 

‘You know what up? My d-’  He managed to cut his thoughts there. His mind wasn’t helping him either.

 

“Um, I don’t know. I might join Steve and Sam and go somewhere today.” It was embarrassing how much effort he had to make to control his voice.

 

“That’s great-” another grunt- “say hello to them.”

 

Bucky squirmed in his seat. With how Clint sounded it was hard not to let his imagination go wild, to imagine himself pinning a warm strong body down, and making sure himself that he got those groans and more.

 

“Yeah. Um . Sure.” His thoughts were cut off by a hiss and a loud ‘Aw! Coffee no!’

 

“Clint?”

 

“I spilled coffee all over the place.”

 

“How the fuck did you manage to spill coffee while doing push-ups Clint?”

 

“Well I was doing push-ups with one hand, and drinking coffee with the other hand, James!” explained Clint while making it sound like ‘Duh, how can you be so stupid James.’

 

And Bucky just had it. He didn’t say another word and just hung up on the asshole.

 

God, why did he have to fall for such a disastrous Dick!

 

~~~~

 

It was Bucky’s first day at work, and he was stressed like nothing else. He didn’t get much sleep, twisting and turning in his sheets, trying to imagine how his first day was going to go. His mind didn’t rest, it imagined all the situations possible, and each one was worse than the other.

How was he going to help people if he was still a wreck, how was he going to introduce himself, he was going to have to talk and move in front of all those people.

His hands itched to call Clint, but he couldn’t, it was just 4 in the morning, and he didn’t want to wake him up just yet. He already woke him up often enough with his nightmares. So he got up from his bed and went into the living room, he needed to move, or else he was going to give in and grab his phone.

 

After 5 minutes of pacing around the couch, pulling his hair, and convincing himself it was going to be fine, he finally gave in and grabbed his phone. He felt guilty for calling him this early, but Clint always insisted that if something went wrong he had to call him.

So he flipped to his recent calls and swept his finger on the screen to call him.

 

The phone was off.

 

No matter how many times he dialed the number, it was the same. Clint’s phone was turned off. And that had never happened, not once. Clint always kept his phone charged so that Bucky could reach him, and turn it onto vibrate when he slept and removed his hearing aids so he could feel it.

That could only mean that Clint was in some kind of trouble. In those moments Bucky came to regret that he didn’t know where Clint lived, or where he worked, he could never be at his side if things went south.

Panic seized him; the fact that he could do nothing but wait for the bad news was killing him. Now he felt what Steve must have been going through.

The stress of the first day, the lack of sleep, and the possibility that Clint could be in danger was too overwhelming. Bucky slumped on the floor next to the couch and hugged his legs. His breath was getting more labored, his heart rate rose, he could feel himself slipping into a panic attack.

Suddenly the air shifted around him, and a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, then a warm body enveloped him from behind, he could feel warm breath across his cheek, and soothing words whispered in his ear.

Steve rocked him, holding him tight until he could breathe normally again.

 

“You can do this Buck.” he didn’t whisper anymore, but he still talked in a low voice. “You are going to be amazing. If there’s anyone who can help those people get on their feet again, it's you.” He held him even tighter. “You’ve gone through so much, you can understand the nightmare they are in.”

 

Bucky’s throat burned, the fears returning in full force. “I’m broken Steve, how can I help these people when I’m still this wrecked. Just look at me Steve.” He wanted to shout the last part, to get it through his friend’s thick skull, but his throat was on fire.

 

“You were broken. You fixed yourself Bucky. Look how much progress you made, no matter how much you argue, you are strong, you were a wreck but got yourself together.”

 

Bucky snorted, but it had no humor in it. “Steve, if you and Clint weren’t there I would have been a wreck, I’m a mess but without you I would have been an empty shell.”

 

“Then be their Clint, Buck, be their Steve. Help these people like we helped you. You can do this, I know you can.”

 

They were silent after that, but Steve still held him tightly, wrapping him in his warmth. And slowly Bucky became calmer and calmer; he leaned more into Steve’s chest and closed his eyes for a while.

 

After long minutes, he remembered his phone and said “Clint’s phone is off.”

 

“Um.” Steve sounded sleepy.

 

“He never shuts it down Steve.”

 

“I’m sure he is fine, maybe he just forgot to recharge his phone.”

 

Bucky finally detached himself from Steve and turned to face him. “Clint might forget to put in his hearing aids sometimes, and he might be clumsy as shit, but he never forgets to recharge his phone and he always puts it on vibrate. Something must have happened to him Steve.”

Steve’s eyebrow rose, and he looked at Bucky with amusement clear in his expression.

Bucky frowned and crossed his arms. “What?” He knew the little shit that Steve was; he knew he was going to be made fun of.

 

“Nothing.” He shook his head while still smiling. “Nothing, Buck. You just worry too much, I’m sure he’s fine. After all, the guy gets shot at by mobsters and still gets out of it with just scratches. He can take care of himself.”

 

Steve raised his arm and curled his fingers around Bucky’s neck “How about I make breakfast for the both of us, and then we’ll go on a morning jog with Sam. Hum?” And added, “I’m sure he’ll call when he’ll wake up.”

 

Bucky knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help being worried about Clint. He liked to blame it on the fact that he was far from him and couldn’t help in time if anything were to happen, but he knew he was kidding himself, that wasn’t the only reason.

 

But it wasn’t the time to dwell on that. So he nodded in Steve’s direction and rose to take a shower while Steve made breakfast.

After his shower he sat on a stool and watched Steve making scrambled eggs, a little smile tugging at his lips, his hair was everywhere, he looked a little tired from the lack of sleep, but he seemed at peace, happy. And Bucky wondered when the last time his friend looked content like this had been.

His depression didn’t affect him alone, he dragged his friend to the bottom with him, and he dragged him to cold and dark territories. Guilt suddenly sprang into him. He wanted to get up, hold Steve, and apologize for all the shit he put him through.

But he knew if Steve even suspected what was going in his mind, he would rip off his other arm and slap him with it. So he kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the comfortable silence that settled between them.

Just as they were finishing eating, the front door opened and Sam walked in, wearing his jogging clothes. He came into the kitchen, leaned into Steve and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

 

“Morning Buck,” he said, turning to Bucky. “Today’s the big day huh?”

 

He had totally forgotten about his first day at work, and suddenly he felt nervous and jittery again. Sam walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

 

“You’re going to do great today Bucky. No need to worry.” Both Steve and Sam were looking at him warmly.

 

Steve rose from his chair declaring, “I’m going to change”

 

Sam clapped Bucky on the shoulder one last time. “And I’m going to help him change.” He grinned at Bucky.

 

“Gross!” Bucky shouted at them while smiling amusedly.

 

Suddenly his phone began ringing, and Bucky practically leaped from his seat to reach it. He checked the number calling, but it was an unknown number. So he opened the line and muttered a breathy “Hello?”

 

“James, it’s Clint.” His voice was hoarse

 

“Clint, from where are you calling. The number is weird; I never saw anything like it.”

 

“It um,” he hesitated. This was a sign of trouble; Bucky just knew it. “I’m calling from prison.”

 

Bucky knew that  Clint got himself into all kind of shit, but never prison. He was speechless for a few seconds before he practically shouted in the phone.

 

“In what? Clint, what did you do?”

 

“I didn’t do anything, I swear James. It’s a misunderstanding.” His voice sounded a little hurt about Bucky’s accusations. But Bucky didn’t say anything and let Clint continue with his explanations .

 

“I told you about Lucy, my neighbor, right? Well, she’s an old lady, and I try to visit her from time to time, she doesn’t have any kids, and she gets lonely. Also, she makes mean pie-“

 

“Clint,” said Bucky patiently, trying to get Clint back on track.

 

“Yeah sorry. Anyways I went to visit her, but when I got there the door was already open, and when I get in, I find three guys robbing the place, and Lucy on the ground unconscious. So I knocked them off. The bastards, they hit her on the head so bad she fainted.”

 

Clint was angry, he was furious. He loved his neighbors, especially the old Lucy. Those guys really chose the wrong building to rob, knocking unconscious the neighbor of an ex-special ops agent.

 

“That still doesn't fucking explain why you’re in jail Clint.” Bucky was still worried, but he couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his lips. Hah, his self-sacrificing idiot.

 

“Well, someone heard all the noise and called the cops. And when they got in, they thought I was one of the robbers. I tried to explain the situation, but since Lucy was still unconscious she couldn’t explain to them that I’m was not the bad guy there, so they got me and all the robbers in jail.”

 

As he was listening to Clint explain, a thought formed in his head, and he frowned.

 

“Wait. Clint. Is this the one call they give you?”

 

“Well yeah,” Clint said this in a ‘duh’ voice, like he didn’t just waste his one call on Bucky, instead of calling someone who could have helped him in his situation.

 

Suddenly Bucky was furious. “What the hell Clint! Why didn’t you call Natasha, or a fucking lawyer to get you out of there? You just wasted your call on me! The hell Clint?”

 

The line was silent for a while. And when Clint finally spoke his voice was calm. “Look, James, I don’t have much time. I couldn’t call anyone else anyways, I don’t remember any number. And I kind of have your number written on a piece of paper that I keep in my pocket, just in case my phone gets broken again.” He said the last part in a hushed tone, almost like he was embarrassed or shy saying it.  “And I know if I call anyone it’ll be awhile before I get out. And today is your big day right. I didn’t want you to think that I forgot about it, or that I didn’t care. And I know how nervous you are about today. You’re going to do good today James, I’m sure of it”

 

Suddenly Bucky couldn’t breathe anymore, he could feel the tip of his ears getting red.

 

“You keep my number in your pocket?” His voice was shaking, and he would be embarrassed about it if he wasn’t so engrossed in hearing the answer.

 

“Well yeah.” At least Clint’s voice was the same as his.

 

“Why?” He suddenly wanted to hear the answer. No. He needed desperately to hear the answer.

 

And why did he just place himself in such a vulnerable position. He just gave himself to  Clint on a platter. The answer could break him; Clint could break him if he wanted to.

 

“I-” Bucky held his breath “Because I care about you, James. I-It’d break me if I lost your number and I couldn’t talk to you again.”

 

Bucky’s breath hitched, and his heart swelled in his ribcage. God, what was this man doing to him.

 

“But I’m just a strain to you, Clint. I’m a mess, and I just waste your time and use your kindness. You would have been better off without me in your life,” Bucky said because he was a self-destructive idiot, who couldn’t believe that good things, good things like Clint, could happen to him.

 

“James!! I already told you not to say that. I like talking to you. And don’t act like you’re the only fucked up person in this relationship. Or did you forget the night where I called you screaming from nightmares or texted you frantically when I couldn’t find my hearing aids. James, don’t do this to yourself.”  He was silent for a while and then continued in a shy voice. “I like you James.”

 

Bucky stopped breathing. He could practically hear the gears in Clint's head kicking in, and he knew he was going to take it back any moment.

 

“I mean-I- Shit! I’m sorry. I meant-”

 

He couldn’t let Clint take it back, he felt like he had been waiting for an eternity for those words, and now that he heard them, he wasn’t going to let them go so easily.

 

“Clint!” he called loudly, he needed all his attention for the next part. “I like you too Clint. And I don’t mean I like you, you’re a good pal. I like like you.”

 

The confidence in his voice was actually just an act, he was jittery, and fully expected Clint to start laughing loudly at him, or to just end the conversation and never call again. Shit. What had he done, he just ruined the best thing that happened to him. Shit, shit, sh-

 

“Really?” Clint's voice was trembling.

 

“Yeah.” At least he wasn’t the only pathetic person in this relationship. “I really do.”

 

There was a long silence after that. Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he was pretty sure that Clint was doing the same on the other side.

 

“So um,” began Clint, “I have to go now, the guard is giving me the stink eye.”

 

Bucky suddenly remembered that Clint was in fucking jail, and they wasted a whole conversation declaring their ridiculous pining to each other, instead of doing something to get Clint out of trouble.

 

“Ah shit. Do you need me to do something? Help in any way?”

 

Clint laughed. “Nah, I’m sure Lucy will wake up soon and she’ll get me out. Don’t worry. Good luck with work today.”

 

Work. Bucky just kept on forgetting about important shit; work, Steve and Sam who were in the other room  and probably heard all of the conversation, that run they had to go on.

 

“Thank you Clint.”

 

“Anytime buddy. Um . Talk to you later?”

 

“Sure. Call me after you get out.”

 

“Bye!”

 

Shortly after Clint hung up, he heard Steve and Sam approaching him. They didn’t say anything, Sam just gave him an affectionate smile, and Steve gently dragged him into a tight hug. He thought back to the conversation between him and Clint, and emotions suddenly swirled in his chest. He could feel the tips of his ears getting hotter, and he just buried his head into Steve’s neck.

 

“So, ‘bout that run Stevie-”

 

He felt more than he heard Steve chuckling.  

“Yeah let’s go.” He placed a chaste kiss onto his forehead and dragged him to the front door.

 

~~~~

 

Steve closed the door of his apartment and headed to the building’s entrance. Today, he was going to take Bucky to celebrate his first month at work. Even though he had been jittery and nervous on the first day, he did well. He even managed to make some friends at work, and Steve couldn’t be prouder. He grinned to himself and sped to pick his friend from the gym he worked in.

There was one thing that bothered him, though.

He had witnessed the rather emotional conversation Bucky had had with Clint a few weeks ago, and he had expected that after that, they would get their heads out of their asses and finally arrange a meeting. But the idiots didn’t, they spent the entire month awkwardly flirting on the phone, and literally fawning over each other, without doing anything about it.

Steve wanted to react, but every time he would bring it up to Bucky, the other just refused to listen to him and frowned in his direction the entire day.

 

Seriously, some days he just wanted to take Bucky’s prosthetic and slap him with it.

Just as he was snickering at that mental image, his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and frowned at the id.

 

“Rogers,” he declared.

 

“You don’t know me, but I know you. I’m Natasha Romanov and I’m Clint’s friend.”

 

“How did you get this number?”

 

“I have my ways. Now, I think we should do something about the two idiots we call friends, don’t you think, Rogers?”

 

Steve could practically hear the grin that the woman was wearing on the other end of the line.

 

“Please, call me Steve.”

 

Apparently the heavens were on his side today.

 

~~~~

 

Steve and Sam were weird today, to say the least.

 

Sam had suddenly came into the apartment on an evening and declared that they were going out that day. And apparently Bucky was obliged to come too. When he refused and exclaimed he’d rather stay at home and watch a movie, the both of them took him on a guilt trip saying he abandoned them, and that he no longer liked their company, Steve even used the ultimate puppy eyes on him.

Just how the fuck was he supposed to resist that! So he agreed to go with them.

 What was even weirder, was that Sam dragged him back to his bedroom and began looking in his closet, digging up some dark jeans  and a few shirts. Then he called Steve over, and started arguing on what color and what jeans made him sexier. All the while Bucky sat on his bed and felt totally thrown off.

 

“Can I know just what the fuck is going on?”

 

Steve turned to look at him way too quickly, and that  was his cue really. That head twitch, a slight nervousness; that was Steve preparing himself to tell a lie. Seriously, the guy couldn’t lie for shit.

 

“Just trying to make you look good Buck, nothing wrong with that.”

 

“Yeah,” Sam interfered, “these dark jeans make your legs look amazing man. Put on this gray shirt with it. That’ll look good.”

 

Bucky just raised an eyebrow at them, and both of them gave him a bright innocent smile. And he just knew that there was no fighting those two assholes. So he kicked them out and dressed in the clothes they had oh so carefully picked for him.

Later, when the sun was just setting, and they were heading to their destination, it  got even weirder. Sam and Steve crowded him in the middle while they were walking, never straying too far from his sides. Bucky kept raising eyebrows at them, but neither responded to his silent questions.

Sam suddenly cleared his throat, and Bucky turned to look at him.

 

“So, Buck, Steve tells me that you don’t know what Clint looks like?”

 

He raised both his eyebrows at him in a silent ‘Really?’ but Sam just continued staring at him, waiting for his answer like he didn’t understand the expression on his face.

 

“So man, what if he has a third eye or something. I mean, it’s kind of weird falling for someone while you don’t even know what they look like.”

 

Bucky huffed a little laugh. This day was getting weirder and weirder. Look who was talking about looks and superficiality, when he was the one who had started dating Steve when the guy was still tiny and people didn’t even give him a second look.

 

“Sam, I wouldn’t give a shit even if he had a dead fucking fetus stuck to his forehead.”

 

And somehow that was a good answer for Sam. He grinned brightly at Bucky,  put an arm around his shoulder, and didn’t let go until they arrive at their destination.

 

Which was a restaurant?

 

Normally when they said they were going out, they just went to a bar close by. But this wasn’t the usual bar, this was a restaurant, and a good fancy one at that.

 

“Steve, what the fuck?”

 

They didn’t even look at him, they went into the restaurant, and Bucky had no choice but to follow. At the reception, Steve smiled at the receptionist and said “Romanov”. 

Bucky wanted to shout at Steve and ask who this ‘Romanov’ was, but he really didn’t want to make a scene. As the girl began leading them to their table, Bucky looked around. The restaurant wasn’t bad, the lights were dim, and the booths were far from each other, and gave a semblance of privacy, soft music playing in the background.

Steve suddenly halted beside a booth, and the receptionist left them. A stunning redheaded woman stood from her seat and shook both Steve and Sam’s hand, then turned her attention to him. She quickly stepped the few steps between them and leaned to kiss his cheek.

 

“Hello James.”

 

How the hell did she know his name? But before he could ask her, she took both Steve’s and Sam’s hand and dragged them towards the exit of the restaurant. And before she could go out of hearing range, she looked over her shoulder and winked at something behind Bucky.

 

“Have fun Clint!”

 

Bucky was going to run after them and ask what was going on when the last thing the redhead said finally registered.

 

She said ‘Clint’.

 

Bucky slowly turned to the booth where the woman was previously sitting. A man was sitting there; his blond hair was everywhere  like the guy had just rolled out of  bed. Grey eyes stared at him curiously. He was wearing dark jeans from what Bucky could see, and a nice purple shirt. But most importantly, he had bright purple hearing aids.

 

“Clint?” His voice broke.

 

Those little shits, he should have suspected what was up. And now he was in front of the man he cared so much for, at a loss for words, and looking like an idiot, gasping at Clint while saying nothing. Bucky could see the moment realization hit Clint. His eyes went comically wide when he heard Bucky’s voice, and his eyes immediately drifted to his left arm for  confirmation.

       

Bucky was the one who shook himself first. He tried to collect his thoughts and sat down in the place Natasha had previously occupied. In front of him, Clint was still gasping, closing and opening his mouth like a fish.

 

“J-James?”

 

“Hello Clint.”

 

Clint gasped, loudly. And Bucky huffed a laugh.

 

He couldn’t even begin to describe the emotions that rose within him. There was fear, fear that this was just a hallucination, that it was a dream. But worse was the fear that this was real and that  Clint wouldn’t like what was in front of him, that the reality of it all would suddenly hit him, and that he wouldn’t want him anymore. The butterfly feeling in his stomach wouldn’t stop; because Clint was in front of him, not just a warm voice on the other line, this was Clint in front of him. If he reached across from him, he could-  he could just reach and touch him.

 

And God he was gorgeous.

 

Bucky was sincere when he said that he really didn’t care about what Clint looked like, he would still love him no matter what he looked like. But he really didn’t expect this; the strong jaw, the piercing  grey eyes, high cheekbones, all completed by a body that would make Adonis blush in embarrassment.

 

Clint suddenly cleared his throat. A blush had spread nicely over his cheeks and his ears. Apparently Bucky’s checking out didn’t go unnoticed.

 

“Apparently our friends had enough of us turning around each other for three months, huh?” Clint said, a hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Yeah, assholes didn’t even give us a warning.”

 

Both of them weren’t looking at each other, they were nervously looking around, avoiding eye contact. Clint raised his hand and scratched his ear where his hearing aids were placed. He was self-conscious about them, and Bucky really couldn’t let him do that to himself, or to them. Their conversations were never awkward; they were fun, interesting, understanding. Their whole relationship was based on the understanding of their disabilities, and not judging each other based on it. They weren’t going to start now.

 

So Bucky turned back to Clint and tried for casual.

 

“So, how is Miss Lucy doing?”

 

Clint turned and made eye contact with him. He seemed to be looking for something, so Bucky held his gaze and hoped he gave Clint what he was looking for. After a few seconds, Clint’s whole face brightened with a dazzling smile, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile back. They just smiled at each other like idiots, because they both knew they were good. Being face to face didn’t really change anything between them.

 

“Yeah, Lucy is good. She heard about you by the way. She’d like to meet you sometime.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. So how was work at the gym today?”

 

“It was good. I like it there. How about you? Any incident today?”

 

“Gosh James, I don’t get in accidents every day!”

 

“You were arrested just last month because the police thought you were a burglar, Clint.”

 

“Well yeah! LAST month, James. See? Not every day!”

 

The conversation was their typical mini banter, but they were grinning like idiots at each other. And when the hell did they lean into the table to be so close to each other? Bucky was lost in just how beautiful Clint’s eyes were when he felt fingertips brush his right hand. He looked down, and Clint had apparently put his hand on the table and was trying to put his hand on Bucky’s. Slowly, and making eye contact, like he was asking for permission to hold hands with him.

So Bucky reached for him and linked their fingers together. As soon as he did that, Clint’s other hand reached for his left arm. His metal arm, his prosthetic, and Bucky’s breath hitched. Clint linked his fingers with Bucky’s cold ones. He did so slowly and with such gentleness that it seemed like he feared  Bucky’s  fingers were going to break.

 

Clint looked up at him, gave him another dazzling smile, and Bucky knew they were going to be okay.

 

~~~

 

Dinner was over hours ago, but both of them had lingered, making excuses with dessert and then coffee. During the whole time they hadn’t let go of each other’s hands unless it was to eat, and then they’d grab each other again like the other would evaporate if they didn’t hold tight enough.

And now they were at Bucky’s door because Clint loudly exclaimed that he was a gentleman and that he was going to get him home safely.

 

“And here we are. Sooooo. Um. This is where you live huh?”

 

“Yeah it is.”

 

“Nice.”

 

He was still holding Clint’s hand, and the way he stalled to spend more time with him was so adorable, that  all that Bucky wanted to do was to grab him and kiss him senseless.

 

“When can I see you again?” Bucky clutched Clint’s hand tightly. He had this irrational fear that if he let go, he was never going to see him again. And apparently he wasn’t the only one having those thoughts, because Clint held his hand even tighter and leaned into Bucky’s space.

The focus in those eyes. Clint was watching him like a hawk, like he was about to devour him alive. Bucky felt a shiver pass over his body, and just as he was about to close the distance between them, Clint stepped back, uncertainty back on his face. And Bucky really didn’t like that expression on Clint. He wanted to see the focus and the intensity in those beautiful eyes again: he wanted to be consumed by those eyes.

 

So he gathered what was left of his courage, and closed the distance between them.

 

Bucky had imagined their first kiss countless times; he always imagined it to be intense, passionate, and fueled by desire. But the real thing was  much, much sweeter. 

Just soft slides of lips against lips, small pecks, and gentle nips. Bucky sighed into the kiss and leaned even more into Clint. When they finally parted after what felt like an eternity, they were smiling like idiots. They seemed to be doing that a lot around each other.

 

Bucky was still punch drunk from the kiss, so he just blamed his next words on that.

 

“Do you want to pass the night? No funny business, I swear.”

 

Once they got in, Bucky headed into his bedroom and started searching in his closet for some PJ pants and a T-shirt that could fit Clint. He silently gave them to him, and pointed to the bathroom, while he started getting his own sleep clothes.

By the time Clint came out of the bathroom fully dressed, Bucky was just about to get his t-shirt on. Seeing him, he hurried to put his shirt on, but Clint was there to stop him before he could.

 

“You know you can take it off around me, I don’t mind James. But if you’re uncomfortable without it, I don’t mind either.”

 

As Bucky looked up at him, there was nothing but sincerity and affection in Clint’s eyes. So he nodded and began undoing the straps that held his prosthetic attached to his bicep. All the while, Clint never left the space he was occupying. When he finally pulled the metal arm free, Clint gently took it,  placed it on a table in the corner, and returned to Bucky’s side.

 

He didn’t say anything, he just leaned low enough to be able to place a sweet kiss on the scars left on his biceps, and then another at the end of the limb, and then another, and another. And he just covered Bucky’s scarred limb with sweet chaste kisses that reached so deep in him that it swept away all the gaps left by his arm, all his loneliness. He could taste the salty tears that were flowing on his cheeks. And suddenly Bucky began shaking; his whole body trembled with all the understanding and the love that was directed to him.

He needed to show Clint just how much he appreciated him, so he pulled him up, cradled his face and kissed him deeply, hoping that it conveyed just how much he cared about him.

 

After a last kiss to the side of his mouth, he decided to show Clint a bit of the skill he had picked up these last three months. So he reached up, and took out both of Clint’s aids, gently putting them on the nightstand beside him. Clint raised an eyebrow at him, but he shrugged him off and signed;

 

‘Thank god for wrong numbers’

 

Clint looked surprised for a few seconds, but recovered and gave him that blinding smile that Bucky had come to adore in just a few hours.

 

“Yeah,” he laughed. His voice sounded a little weird due to the lack of his hearing aids, but Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

 

 

                                                                                           --The end--

 

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://middle-earth-conqueror.tumblr.com/)   
> 


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